Fritz/Joseph summit
Sep. 16th, 2020 09:42 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mildred_of_midgard posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
rheinsbergAuthor: selenak, mildred_of_midgard
Original discussion: https://cahn.dreamwidth.org/163052.html?thread=1190892#cmt1190892
mildred_of_midgard: MT, Joseph, and Fritz are locked in a room together for a secret summit, while Franzl and Heinrich are sitting outside in the antechamber with a bottle of tokay, commiserating.
"You know, if it were up to me..."
"If it were up to me..."
*indistinct shouting on the other side of the wall*
"Here, have another drink."
"No, no. I know it's all my brother's fault. You're the wronged party."
"Oh, no question, but you're the one who has to live with him."
"...Better make it a double."
selenak: Alas if Joseph is there than Franzl is not, since Joseph only became Emperor after his father's death.
mildred_of_midgard: Does Joseph have to be Emperor, though? Can he just be a starry-eyed fanboy who wants to reconcile Mom and his hero by acting as intermediary?
MT: Fine, but I'm not letting your dad in the room or Fritz will keep pointedly ignoring me to talk to him, and also your dad might start trying to get along with him.
Joseph: ...I thought the point of this was that you and Fritz learn to see eye to eye?
MT: Oh, you sweet summer child.
Meanwhile, in the antechamber:
Franz: What's going on in there?
Heinrich: You don't want to know. I got kicked out in the first five minutes.
[Round robin begins.]
Franz (somewhat later, after he and Heinrich are half a bottle down at least): So, your brother. I'm just speculating, but could it be he'd be in a general better mood and perhaps less inclined to conquering our territory if he got laid on a regular basis?
Heinrich: I resent that theory, on the basis of me getting laid on a regular basis and still being a better - a good warrior. Also, I don't want to think about his sex life, thanks a lot. What is it with your family handing out sexual pointers whenever you visit foreign royalty?
Franz: I didn't say anything about you compensating, just him, relax. And, well, it's just a theory. If you live in a Vienna for long, there's something in the air that makes you speculate about other people's sex lives, what can I say.
Heinrich: Well. In fact. I may have sometimes wondered. But I'm not sacrificing any hot pages to test that theory!
Heinrich *under his breath*: Is your son offering? Because when I was in the room, that's sure what it looked like.
At this point, Philippe d'Orleans' ghost makes a cameo appearance:
Monsieur: Grandson Franz, let me point out that I as well as my older brother never suffered from a shortage of les plaisirs d'amour, and was I not a successful campaigner, so much so that Louis got jealous? This being said, this handsome gentleman here has a point. *eyes Heinrich appreciatively* Young Joseph could do worse than lose his virginity in the service of diplomacy. After all, is this not his sisters' lot?
Franz: Just how much of this wine have we drunk? Never mind. His mother would kill me, Monsieur mon grandpère.
Heinrich: So your marital peace is more important than peace in Europe?
Franz: I could say the same thing about your hot page.
Heinrich: Look. If *I* don't get laid regularly, I'm going to strangle my brother, and then there will be civil war. You all have no idea what miracles of self-control go into my relationship with him. I NEED THAT PAGE!
Franz: Hmm, but does a civil war in Prussia benefit Austria?
Heinrich: Are you asking if my brother has a problem fighting on multiple fronts?
Franz: ...Never mind.
*a few drinks later*
Franz: So about getting Fritz laid...
Later that night, once an exhausted from verbal combat MT is alone with FS in their bedroom:
F: ...actually, Mitz, the more I think about this, the less crazy it sounds. I mean, Joseph wouldn‘t exactly be unwilling, would he, given how starry eyed he is about him, and trust me on this, a man with a wonderful Habsburg in their bed is not a man who wants to go world conquering!
MT: Your dead grandfather clearly is a terrible influence on you. I might have to call an exorcist.
F: But we do expect the girls to marry for the Empire, don‘t we? Far worse guys than, well, him.
MT: Emphasis on „marry“, Franzl. Never would I ever let a child of mine live in sin and lose their immortal soul, even for the Empire. *pauses* He‘s not likely to make an honest man out of Joseph, is he?
F: ...Are you thinking what I‘m thinking, Mitz?
MT: Well, I had intended for Joseph to marry the Parma girl, it‘s true, but something tells me she‘ll get over the disappointment. If the King converts and swears to love and honor my oldest son in front of God and men, I would not gainsay God‘s plan for peace in Europe.
Franz Stefan, because he's nice like that, thinks someone should at least hint to Joseph this could be in the offering. To, you know, prepare him, not least because who knows he he'll react if this is sprung on him unprepared in public in case Fritz doesn't say no.
F: So...you're really impressed by the King of Prussia, aren't you, son?
J: Well, yeah. No offense to you and Mom, Dad, but to me he's the coolest most effective monarch of Europe, and I just think I can learn a lot from him. Except for his thing about German. That's just weird. Also, Gluck rocks!
F: There isn't any special someone in your life right now, is there?
J: With Mom supervising me like a hawk? I leave that kind of thing to Poldl. Younger siblings always have it easier. Another thing I agree with the King on.
F: Speaking as a former younger brother whose older brother died: that's an illusion. But never mind. How do you feel about the ancient Greeks?
J: Look, Dad, it's enough that Mom sits in during my lessons and examinations every second month. You're the fun parent! Or you used to be. I can read bloody Homer in the original, okay?
F *under his breath*: How I produced a son simultanously so clueless and smart, I don't know.
Heinrich: *spits out his drink* He said what about younger siblings? Never mind, my friend, in the event your boy ends up in Prussia, I'll take him under my wing. Not in a hot page sort of way, I mean.
Franz: Thanks...I guess?
Heinrich: Meanwhile, listen up. You might have noticed my brother can be a bit...contrary.
Franz: You could say that.
Heinrich: So we've got to play this just right. I'm thinking that if there's too much pressure to go through with the marriage, he balks. But he might die laughing if given the opportunity to troll a certain virtuous Empress-Queen. If you catch my drift.
Franz: I do indeed. Maternal resistance might not be a bad way of getting Joseph behind the idea, either. Has anyone ever told you that your brother's not the only devious genius in the family?
Heinrich: You're too kind.
*later, alone with her husband*
Maria Theresia: So you want me to pretend to be against it so that that man and our Joseph can be for it? How old are you all, twelve?
Franz: I'll remind you that when the doctors told you explicitly to rest and do nothing during your first six pregnancies, you instead went dancing, stayed up till 11 pm and gambled.
MT: That was different. I knew better.
F: *eloquently says nothing*
MT: Fine. But what if it's all for nothing, and he sees through me? I'd be humiliated, Franzl! By that man!
F: Mitz, you're the best actress I've ever met. (*Footnote: He actually did say that. ) Just think of how you sang Agrippina. I couldn't imagine a woman more different from you, and yet when you embodied her, we all believed the truth of every note! Channel your inner Agrippina. I believe in you! You can do it.
*early in the morning, Fritz hasn't arrived at the summit salon yet; MT mutters to herself beneath her breath "Think Agrippina, think Agrippina" and hums a few Händel notes when Joseph arrives; her posture immediately changes to stiff disapproval*
MT *pitching her voice as a trained singer can so she will be overheard in the next room, just in case Fritz is either already near or has deployed lackeys*: Joseph, I don't want you to attend the summit today. Your very presence is a sabotage, because the King can see you're far too impressed by him.
J: But Mom! The entire summit was my idea! You can't do that!
MT: Yes, I can. In fact, I'll go further. When we get back home, I'm confiscating your copy of the Anti-Machiavel and the porcelain cup portrait you think I don't know about. Till we leave, you're staying away from the King, you don't talk to him, you don't as much as breathe his name! Are we clear!
J: *slams door on his way out (not the way Fritz will take when entering, the other door*
MT: *tries to calm herself herself; there was a bit too much truth in that performance; gets out her rosary, both as part of the calming effort and because it's a prepared prop; she knows, after all, that Fritz is always mocking her piety in public; she then gets out her supersecret weapon, a broche showing a miniature pastel portrait of... Wilhelmine, and pins it firmly on her dress where Fritz is bound to see it*
Fritz: *enters*
MT *smile pasted on*: You don't have to kneel, your grace. (*he wasn't about to, as well she knows, but it can't help reminding him he bloody well should, according to protocol*) In fact, it is I who owe you, I just remembered. Before he died, Prince Eugene told me you wanted to convert and marry me, and see, if you'd officially proposed my father probably would have said yes, what with Prussia so full of soldiers and money, and then where would we be! In misery, that's where. But you reconsidered, and so I owe you decades of happiness with the love of my life. THANK YOU!" *grabs him by his shoulders and kisses him on both cheeks*
Fritz: *elaborately wiping his cheeks*
Fritz: Congratulations. Now I *have* to convert, just to become a monk so I can get the girl-cooties off. The Countess Orzelska dressed as a man, you know.
Fritz: As for kneeling, I'm afraid I'm out of practice. *inclines head sardonically* Your son, on the other hand, madam, is just as delighted as you are, albeit for different reasons, that he's not too closely related to me. His interest seems decidedly...non-filial, shall we say. That portrait of me by his bed? Confiscate it if you like; I'll never forget the sight of it, and neither will he.
Fritz: *lets her decide how to react to that, then brazenly snatches his sister's portrait from her bodice while she's distracted*
Fritz: Looks like Silesia isn't the only thing of mine you have.
Fritz: *sits down, looking rather pleased at this performance*
Ball's in your court, MT and Franz! Heinrich is trying to decide whether he can believe his ears.
Franz (with Heinrich in the ante room, which is still open to the salon) wonders whether telling MT to channel her inner Agrippina has been such a good idea because for a moment, she looks like she thinks serving Fritz a mushroom dish is a really good idea. He decides to hope for the best and prepare for the worst, by which he means looking for his son (last seen storming out of the other exit and slamming the door) just in case an intervention is needed. This means, by necessity, there'll be some time (spent Joseph-hunting) MT and Fritz are free to strangle each other without him being able to stop it, but surely Heinrich would intervene... would he?
MT *does have murder in her eyes, but has not survived sixteen pregnancies and childbirths as well as her father's stupid ancient advisors in her first cabinet lecturing her without being able to conjure up discipline as well as a lethal smile*: Cousin, you should have told me you were tired, I'd have given you permission to sit down long ago. Men just don't have the stamina we women do, I suppose. Your dear sister told me what a sensitive boy you've always been, and I now see she was right. You do remind me of little Max and Ferdinand, always grabbing at shiny baubles that aren't yours.
*Pause to let that sink in, while she remains standing. She is at this point of her life of course no longer young herself and overweight, her dancing nights are past, but she's still healthy and the woman his ambassador describes in his dispatches as able to remain hours and hours unprotected in high summer heat outside going through receptions while her court runs for cover*
And here I thought you didn't care for portraits.
*drops the fake pleasantry for pure ice*
Now, may I enquire how you came to see yours by my son's bed?
Fritz: *is crippled with gout and leaning on a cane, as she well knows*
(Eddie Izzard on royal inbreeding: Cause it's a bad idea when cousins marry!)
Fritz: *patronizing smile* Thank you for your concern, madam, but the rigors of campaigning aren't something I'd expect you to be familiar with. It's only right and natural that you should be protected from such hardships. Allow this old warhorse to compliment you on your fine complexion.
Fritz: *courtly half-bow from his chair* Then he turns absolutely smug, because she just walked into the trap.
Fritz: I'm afraid I don't take your meaning about the portrait, though. I said that I'd seen it and that he kept it by his bed, not that I'd seen it by his bed. Interesting that you jumped to that conclusion; I'd rather thought you were too pure-minded for the gutter. But then, you would know more about your son than I would.
Fritz: *hasn't played the "Did I or Didn't I" game for thirty-plus years for nothing*
Fritz: And speaking of sons, if Max and Ferdinand are giving you as much trouble as I am, I can only imagine what your oldest is putting you through. Should I offer to take him off your hands? I might find him more manageable. You did seem worried about my influence over him when I was walking through the antechamber, and in quite the hurry to be rid of him.
*Inside Heinrich's brain*
Eeeeexcellent. Everything is going according to plan.
*mimes raising a glass* To my brother getting laid on the regular and maybe calming the fuck down. And keeping his hands off my pages.
*looks around for Franz* Now, where on earth is that Joseph?
Franz Stefan had believed his son wouldn’t go far, unable to resist the temptation of overhearing, regardless of or especially because of his mother’s ban, so he’s surprised it takes him a while to locate Joseph - who then comes sprinting towards him from the general direction of the courtyard. Was he outside for some reason?
J: Dad, you must know Mom is handling this terribly. She’s dead wrong about Fritz and me! I’m not a pushover, I just understand him! I do! I shouldn’t just be in the room, I should be the main negotiator!
FS: Well, you might get your chance. Last I looked he and your mother were about to kill each other, so let’s go back there and I’ll somehow persuade your mother to let you stay.
(Franz: not a bad actor himself. Comes with the occasional one night stand territory.)
J *hasn’t taken this in yet, he’s prepared a speech in order to convince his parents and hasn’t even gotten to the middle of same yet*: I know you both think I’m without guile, but I can be sneaky! I have a secret weapon to butter Fritz up, and now I’ll employ it if you... hang on, did you just say you’ll back me up with Mom?
F: Yes. Secret weapon, hm? *under his breath* Thank God. I was beginning to fear I need to draw you a diagram.
J *proudly*: Yep. I had the idea before we left Vienna. Preparation is everything says Fritz.
F: I’m impressed, son. Now, not to rush you or anything, but we really need to...
J: Right. Let me just get the weapon.
F: ...? You don’t mean to say you already brought a ring?
J: ...????? I brought the Mozarts.
F: ....
J: Come on. Everyone melted when those two kids performed in front of us. Even Mom! She totally let that boy hug her, jump on her lap and kiss her. I mean, who gets to do that to Mom otherwise? She sure isn’t the spontanous kissing type!
F: ....
J: So I thought: Fritz loves music. Truly deeply does. Now I have no idea whether he also likes kids in general, but come on, everyone loves little Wolferl! So I told Leopold Mozart to secretly follow us with his kids, and I’ve now checked whether they arrived. Which they did! So here’s my plan. I’ll announce to Fritz I’ve arranged a special concert in his honor. We all listen to the Mozarts. Everyone melts, again. Peace, love and harmony descend on both our realms. Am I a genius or what?
*meanwhile, in the summit salon*
Never ever has MT been torn between feeling smug herself and feeling annoyed as hell. On the one hand: things are going the way she, in the end, wants them to. On the other: he’s possibly more infuriating in person than a distance of hundreds of miles when invading her provinces, and just once, she wants to be the one to gloat. But if she makes that mistake, if she lets him discover she’s not, in fact, 100% horrified at the prospect of him being anywhere near her son, she’s lost the game. And she’s really really sick of losing to this man, thanks a lot. Silesia will definitely be ruled by Joseph, even if he has to do it with Fritz, that’s so going to be in the wedding contract.
So she swallows down her bile and her moment of fierce satisfaction and instead grabs at something that’s also real, so she doesn’t have to fake it. (Much.)
MT *wounded expression of noble wronged madonna*: Allow a mother to be protective of her son, Monsieur. Especially since, as the mother of my country, I already lost a great many sons to you. I may have expressed some concern, yes. But a parent, a true parent, should never, ever, disown their child. So I am afraid I cannot possibly allow you to adopt him.
*widens eyes a bit, as if something suddenly occured to her that’s stunning and shocking, simply shocking, and she never, ever thought of it before*
You did mean adoption, didn’t you? Not some other legal arrangement?
*Fritz has little time to ponder this one, as there’s a commotion heard outside. The doors burst open. Enter Joseph, looking rather dashing for Joseph; he’s a bit on the thin side, as opposed to his parents, a bit flushed from running, and neither small nor gigantic tall a la Potsdam Giants*
J (to Fritz): I apologize for being interrupting, Sire, but I cannot contain myself any longer: I have a proposal for you!
*behind Joseph’s back, FS appears and gets the most WTF? Look he ever got from his wife; he’ s giving her a “not my fault!” Look back*
J: *continuing* Even a warrior such as yourself must rest once in a while, so let yourself be seduced....
MT’s WTF????? Look is no acting at all, and could scorch the Earth.
J: *continuing*: ...by music!
*cue trio outside, Wolfgang playing violin, Nannerl piano, Leopold flute. Because of course this is an opera buffa, and we’re in the final scene*
MT is a mezzo soprano, FS has the father role but just isn’t the type for a bass so he’s a bariton. Heinrich and Joseph are both lyrical tenors. Now, the question is: is this opera buffa from the first three quarters of the 18th century, in which case Fritz is sung by a castrato as the heroic primo uomo, spanning the whole range from soprano to alto, or are we talking later Mozart and onwards, in which case he is a heroic tenor.
selenak, mildred_of_midgardOriginal discussion: https://cahn.dreamwidth.org/163052.html?thread=1190892#cmt1190892
mildred_of_midgard: MT, Joseph, and Fritz are locked in a room together for a secret summit, while Franzl and Heinrich are sitting outside in the antechamber with a bottle of tokay, commiserating."You know, if it were up to me..."
"If it were up to me..."
*indistinct shouting on the other side of the wall*
"Here, have another drink."
"No, no. I know it's all my brother's fault. You're the wronged party."
"Oh, no question, but you're the one who has to live with him."
"...Better make it a double."
selenak: Alas if Joseph is there than Franzl is not, since Joseph only became Emperor after his father's death.mildred_of_midgard: Does Joseph have to be Emperor, though? Can he just be a starry-eyed fanboy who wants to reconcile Mom and his hero by acting as intermediary?MT: Fine, but I'm not letting your dad in the room or Fritz will keep pointedly ignoring me to talk to him, and also your dad might start trying to get along with him.
Joseph: ...I thought the point of this was that you and Fritz learn to see eye to eye?
MT: Oh, you sweet summer child.
Meanwhile, in the antechamber:
Franz: What's going on in there?
Heinrich: You don't want to know. I got kicked out in the first five minutes.
[Round robin begins.]
Franz (somewhat later, after he and Heinrich are half a bottle down at least): So, your brother. I'm just speculating, but could it be he'd be in a general better mood and perhaps less inclined to conquering our territory if he got laid on a regular basis?
Heinrich: I resent that theory, on the basis of me getting laid on a regular basis and still being a better - a good warrior. Also, I don't want to think about his sex life, thanks a lot. What is it with your family handing out sexual pointers whenever you visit foreign royalty?
Franz: I didn't say anything about you compensating, just him, relax. And, well, it's just a theory. If you live in a Vienna for long, there's something in the air that makes you speculate about other people's sex lives, what can I say.
Heinrich: Well. In fact. I may have sometimes wondered. But I'm not sacrificing any hot pages to test that theory!
Heinrich *under his breath*: Is your son offering? Because when I was in the room, that's sure what it looked like.
At this point, Philippe d'Orleans' ghost makes a cameo appearance:
Monsieur: Grandson Franz, let me point out that I as well as my older brother never suffered from a shortage of les plaisirs d'amour, and was I not a successful campaigner, so much so that Louis got jealous? This being said, this handsome gentleman here has a point. *eyes Heinrich appreciatively* Young Joseph could do worse than lose his virginity in the service of diplomacy. After all, is this not his sisters' lot?
Franz: Just how much of this wine have we drunk? Never mind. His mother would kill me, Monsieur mon grandpère.
Heinrich: So your marital peace is more important than peace in Europe?
Franz: I could say the same thing about your hot page.
Heinrich: Look. If *I* don't get laid regularly, I'm going to strangle my brother, and then there will be civil war. You all have no idea what miracles of self-control go into my relationship with him. I NEED THAT PAGE!
Franz: Hmm, but does a civil war in Prussia benefit Austria?
Heinrich: Are you asking if my brother has a problem fighting on multiple fronts?
Franz: ...Never mind.
*a few drinks later*
Franz: So about getting Fritz laid...
Later that night, once an exhausted from verbal combat MT is alone with FS in their bedroom:
F: ...actually, Mitz, the more I think about this, the less crazy it sounds. I mean, Joseph wouldn‘t exactly be unwilling, would he, given how starry eyed he is about him, and trust me on this, a man with a wonderful Habsburg in their bed is not a man who wants to go world conquering!
MT: Your dead grandfather clearly is a terrible influence on you. I might have to call an exorcist.
F: But we do expect the girls to marry for the Empire, don‘t we? Far worse guys than, well, him.
MT: Emphasis on „marry“, Franzl. Never would I ever let a child of mine live in sin and lose their immortal soul, even for the Empire. *pauses* He‘s not likely to make an honest man out of Joseph, is he?
F: ...Are you thinking what I‘m thinking, Mitz?
MT: Well, I had intended for Joseph to marry the Parma girl, it‘s true, but something tells me she‘ll get over the disappointment. If the King converts and swears to love and honor my oldest son in front of God and men, I would not gainsay God‘s plan for peace in Europe.
Franz Stefan, because he's nice like that, thinks someone should at least hint to Joseph this could be in the offering. To, you know, prepare him, not least because who knows he he'll react if this is sprung on him unprepared in public in case Fritz doesn't say no.
F: So...you're really impressed by the King of Prussia, aren't you, son?
J: Well, yeah. No offense to you and Mom, Dad, but to me he's the coolest most effective monarch of Europe, and I just think I can learn a lot from him. Except for his thing about German. That's just weird. Also, Gluck rocks!
F: There isn't any special someone in your life right now, is there?
J: With Mom supervising me like a hawk? I leave that kind of thing to Poldl. Younger siblings always have it easier. Another thing I agree with the King on.
F: Speaking as a former younger brother whose older brother died: that's an illusion. But never mind. How do you feel about the ancient Greeks?
J: Look, Dad, it's enough that Mom sits in during my lessons and examinations every second month. You're the fun parent! Or you used to be. I can read bloody Homer in the original, okay?
F *under his breath*: How I produced a son simultanously so clueless and smart, I don't know.
Heinrich: *spits out his drink* He said what about younger siblings? Never mind, my friend, in the event your boy ends up in Prussia, I'll take him under my wing. Not in a hot page sort of way, I mean.
Franz: Thanks...I guess?
Heinrich: Meanwhile, listen up. You might have noticed my brother can be a bit...contrary.
Franz: You could say that.
Heinrich: So we've got to play this just right. I'm thinking that if there's too much pressure to go through with the marriage, he balks. But he might die laughing if given the opportunity to troll a certain virtuous Empress-Queen. If you catch my drift.
Franz: I do indeed. Maternal resistance might not be a bad way of getting Joseph behind the idea, either. Has anyone ever told you that your brother's not the only devious genius in the family?
Heinrich: You're too kind.
*later, alone with her husband*
Maria Theresia: So you want me to pretend to be against it so that that man and our Joseph can be for it? How old are you all, twelve?
Franz: I'll remind you that when the doctors told you explicitly to rest and do nothing during your first six pregnancies, you instead went dancing, stayed up till 11 pm and gambled.
MT: That was different. I knew better.
F: *eloquently says nothing*
MT: Fine. But what if it's all for nothing, and he sees through me? I'd be humiliated, Franzl! By that man!
F: Mitz, you're the best actress I've ever met. (*Footnote: He actually did say that. ) Just think of how you sang Agrippina. I couldn't imagine a woman more different from you, and yet when you embodied her, we all believed the truth of every note! Channel your inner Agrippina. I believe in you! You can do it.
*early in the morning, Fritz hasn't arrived at the summit salon yet; MT mutters to herself beneath her breath "Think Agrippina, think Agrippina" and hums a few Händel notes when Joseph arrives; her posture immediately changes to stiff disapproval*
MT *pitching her voice as a trained singer can so she will be overheard in the next room, just in case Fritz is either already near or has deployed lackeys*: Joseph, I don't want you to attend the summit today. Your very presence is a sabotage, because the King can see you're far too impressed by him.
J: But Mom! The entire summit was my idea! You can't do that!
MT: Yes, I can. In fact, I'll go further. When we get back home, I'm confiscating your copy of the Anti-Machiavel and the porcelain cup portrait you think I don't know about. Till we leave, you're staying away from the King, you don't talk to him, you don't as much as breathe his name! Are we clear!
J: *slams door on his way out (not the way Fritz will take when entering, the other door*
MT: *tries to calm herself herself; there was a bit too much truth in that performance; gets out her rosary, both as part of the calming effort and because it's a prepared prop; she knows, after all, that Fritz is always mocking her piety in public; she then gets out her supersecret weapon, a broche showing a miniature pastel portrait of... Wilhelmine, and pins it firmly on her dress where Fritz is bound to see it*
Fritz: *enters*
MT *smile pasted on*: You don't have to kneel, your grace. (*he wasn't about to, as well she knows, but it can't help reminding him he bloody well should, according to protocol*) In fact, it is I who owe you, I just remembered. Before he died, Prince Eugene told me you wanted to convert and marry me, and see, if you'd officially proposed my father probably would have said yes, what with Prussia so full of soldiers and money, and then where would we be! In misery, that's where. But you reconsidered, and so I owe you decades of happiness with the love of my life. THANK YOU!" *grabs him by his shoulders and kisses him on both cheeks*
Fritz: *elaborately wiping his cheeks*
Fritz: Congratulations. Now I *have* to convert, just to become a monk so I can get the girl-cooties off. The Countess Orzelska dressed as a man, you know.
Fritz: As for kneeling, I'm afraid I'm out of practice. *inclines head sardonically* Your son, on the other hand, madam, is just as delighted as you are, albeit for different reasons, that he's not too closely related to me. His interest seems decidedly...non-filial, shall we say. That portrait of me by his bed? Confiscate it if you like; I'll never forget the sight of it, and neither will he.
Fritz: *lets her decide how to react to that, then brazenly snatches his sister's portrait from her bodice while she's distracted*
Fritz: Looks like Silesia isn't the only thing of mine you have.
Fritz: *sits down, looking rather pleased at this performance*
Ball's in your court, MT and Franz! Heinrich is trying to decide whether he can believe his ears.
Franz (with Heinrich in the ante room, which is still open to the salon) wonders whether telling MT to channel her inner Agrippina has been such a good idea because for a moment, she looks like she thinks serving Fritz a mushroom dish is a really good idea. He decides to hope for the best and prepare for the worst, by which he means looking for his son (last seen storming out of the other exit and slamming the door) just in case an intervention is needed. This means, by necessity, there'll be some time (spent Joseph-hunting) MT and Fritz are free to strangle each other without him being able to stop it, but surely Heinrich would intervene... would he?
MT *does have murder in her eyes, but has not survived sixteen pregnancies and childbirths as well as her father's stupid ancient advisors in her first cabinet lecturing her without being able to conjure up discipline as well as a lethal smile*: Cousin, you should have told me you were tired, I'd have given you permission to sit down long ago. Men just don't have the stamina we women do, I suppose. Your dear sister told me what a sensitive boy you've always been, and I now see she was right. You do remind me of little Max and Ferdinand, always grabbing at shiny baubles that aren't yours.
*Pause to let that sink in, while she remains standing. She is at this point of her life of course no longer young herself and overweight, her dancing nights are past, but she's still healthy and the woman his ambassador describes in his dispatches as able to remain hours and hours unprotected in high summer heat outside going through receptions while her court runs for cover*
And here I thought you didn't care for portraits.
*drops the fake pleasantry for pure ice*
Now, may I enquire how you came to see yours by my son's bed?
Fritz: *is crippled with gout and leaning on a cane, as she well knows*
(Eddie Izzard on royal inbreeding: Cause it's a bad idea when cousins marry!)
Fritz: *patronizing smile* Thank you for your concern, madam, but the rigors of campaigning aren't something I'd expect you to be familiar with. It's only right and natural that you should be protected from such hardships. Allow this old warhorse to compliment you on your fine complexion.
Fritz: *courtly half-bow from his chair* Then he turns absolutely smug, because she just walked into the trap.
Fritz: I'm afraid I don't take your meaning about the portrait, though. I said that I'd seen it and that he kept it by his bed, not that I'd seen it by his bed. Interesting that you jumped to that conclusion; I'd rather thought you were too pure-minded for the gutter. But then, you would know more about your son than I would.
Fritz: *hasn't played the "Did I or Didn't I" game for thirty-plus years for nothing*
Fritz: And speaking of sons, if Max and Ferdinand are giving you as much trouble as I am, I can only imagine what your oldest is putting you through. Should I offer to take him off your hands? I might find him more manageable. You did seem worried about my influence over him when I was walking through the antechamber, and in quite the hurry to be rid of him.
*Inside Heinrich's brain*
Eeeeexcellent. Everything is going according to plan.
*mimes raising a glass* To my brother getting laid on the regular and maybe calming the fuck down. And keeping his hands off my pages.
*looks around for Franz* Now, where on earth is that Joseph?
Franz Stefan had believed his son wouldn’t go far, unable to resist the temptation of overhearing, regardless of or especially because of his mother’s ban, so he’s surprised it takes him a while to locate Joseph - who then comes sprinting towards him from the general direction of the courtyard. Was he outside for some reason?
J: Dad, you must know Mom is handling this terribly. She’s dead wrong about Fritz and me! I’m not a pushover, I just understand him! I do! I shouldn’t just be in the room, I should be the main negotiator!
FS: Well, you might get your chance. Last I looked he and your mother were about to kill each other, so let’s go back there and I’ll somehow persuade your mother to let you stay.
(Franz: not a bad actor himself. Comes with the occasional one night stand territory.)
J *hasn’t taken this in yet, he’s prepared a speech in order to convince his parents and hasn’t even gotten to the middle of same yet*: I know you both think I’m without guile, but I can be sneaky! I have a secret weapon to butter Fritz up, and now I’ll employ it if you... hang on, did you just say you’ll back me up with Mom?
F: Yes. Secret weapon, hm? *under his breath* Thank God. I was beginning to fear I need to draw you a diagram.
J *proudly*: Yep. I had the idea before we left Vienna. Preparation is everything says Fritz.
F: I’m impressed, son. Now, not to rush you or anything, but we really need to...
J: Right. Let me just get the weapon.
F: ...? You don’t mean to say you already brought a ring?
J: ...????? I brought the Mozarts.
F: ....
J: Come on. Everyone melted when those two kids performed in front of us. Even Mom! She totally let that boy hug her, jump on her lap and kiss her. I mean, who gets to do that to Mom otherwise? She sure isn’t the spontanous kissing type!
F: ....
J: So I thought: Fritz loves music. Truly deeply does. Now I have no idea whether he also likes kids in general, but come on, everyone loves little Wolferl! So I told Leopold Mozart to secretly follow us with his kids, and I’ve now checked whether they arrived. Which they did! So here’s my plan. I’ll announce to Fritz I’ve arranged a special concert in his honor. We all listen to the Mozarts. Everyone melts, again. Peace, love and harmony descend on both our realms. Am I a genius or what?
*meanwhile, in the summit salon*
Never ever has MT been torn between feeling smug herself and feeling annoyed as hell. On the one hand: things are going the way she, in the end, wants them to. On the other: he’s possibly more infuriating in person than a distance of hundreds of miles when invading her provinces, and just once, she wants to be the one to gloat. But if she makes that mistake, if she lets him discover she’s not, in fact, 100% horrified at the prospect of him being anywhere near her son, she’s lost the game. And she’s really really sick of losing to this man, thanks a lot. Silesia will definitely be ruled by Joseph, even if he has to do it with Fritz, that’s so going to be in the wedding contract.
So she swallows down her bile and her moment of fierce satisfaction and instead grabs at something that’s also real, so she doesn’t have to fake it. (Much.)
MT *wounded expression of noble wronged madonna*: Allow a mother to be protective of her son, Monsieur. Especially since, as the mother of my country, I already lost a great many sons to you. I may have expressed some concern, yes. But a parent, a true parent, should never, ever, disown their child. So I am afraid I cannot possibly allow you to adopt him.
*widens eyes a bit, as if something suddenly occured to her that’s stunning and shocking, simply shocking, and she never, ever thought of it before*
You did mean adoption, didn’t you? Not some other legal arrangement?
*Fritz has little time to ponder this one, as there’s a commotion heard outside. The doors burst open. Enter Joseph, looking rather dashing for Joseph; he’s a bit on the thin side, as opposed to his parents, a bit flushed from running, and neither small nor gigantic tall a la Potsdam Giants*
J (to Fritz): I apologize for being interrupting, Sire, but I cannot contain myself any longer: I have a proposal for you!
*behind Joseph’s back, FS appears and gets the most WTF? Look he ever got from his wife; he’ s giving her a “not my fault!” Look back*
J: *continuing* Even a warrior such as yourself must rest once in a while, so let yourself be seduced....
MT’s WTF????? Look is no acting at all, and could scorch the Earth.
J: *continuing*: ...by music!
*cue trio outside, Wolfgang playing violin, Nannerl piano, Leopold flute. Because of course this is an opera buffa, and we’re in the final scene*
MT is a mezzo soprano, FS has the father role but just isn’t the type for a bass so he’s a bariton. Heinrich and Joseph are both lyrical tenors. Now, the question is: is this opera buffa from the first three quarters of the 18th century, in which case Fritz is sung by a castrato as the heroic primo uomo, spanning the whole range from soprano to alto, or are we talking later Mozart and onwards, in which case he is a heroic tenor.
